Felis Catus
by MillyAshfordFan
Summary: Lelouch likes it when the witch watches them because he can give her a show. Explicit M/M, written for the CG Kink Meme


**Felis Catus**

**Warning(s): Explicit M/M**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Code Geass**

**AN: **This was written for the Code Geass Kink Meme. The prompt: Suzaku giving Lelouch a blowjob while C.C. watches from the closet. He _knows _she's watching.

* * *

><p>She reminds him of a cat, limbs spread out on his bed as she basks in the sun, eyes narrowed and brimming with condescension, her smirk the deadliest of poisons.<p>

The _felis catus_—better known as the everyday housecat—is a selfish creature. Unlike a dog, it is not loyal to its master. It will not stay by his side through thick and thin. It will not wag its tail at his arrival or pant happily when he walks through the door. Cats know better than to put their faith in human beings. To a dog, its master is a companion, someone to be loved and respected. A cat, on the other hand, realizes its master is as fallible as any other animal. As soon as the tuna and milk vanish, they are off snagging birds off trees and impaling rats on their claws. They do not mourn the loss of affection. No, instead, they merely bemoan the loss of convenience.

(Just like her).

Even as she stretches and yawns, the movements are undeniably feline, lackadaisical and blasé, while she remains lynx-eyed. She stands and raises her arms, the sleeves of his shirt sighing, shifting away from her pallid wrists. Of course, she makes a production, arching her back, toeing the carpet, but then she finally looks up, eyes catching like ingots in the light.

"You don't have to pretend around me," C.C. says.

Lelouch's face remains composed; he raises an eyebrow. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do." There is nothing accusatory about that statement. She says it in the same bland tone she always uses, like she is saying something just for the sake of saying it. "It hurts, doesn't it?"

He knows _exactly_ what she's talking about it, but he cannot betray emotion around her. _Especially_ not her. "You can talk to me when you start making sense," Lelouch says, attempting to sound unshakable. But a gossamer of doubt slips through the cracks, and she catches it, laps it up, and her arms lower slowly to her sides.

A part of him begins to expect her to encircle him like a lion with its prey, but she does not. Perhaps she thinks it is trite. Perhaps she wants to maintain her air of indifference. Regardless, she moves sloth-like to his desk and picks up the Zero mask, pressing the palm of her hand to its front.

"It must hurt," she says, "that he did not wish to join you." Voice detached, removed, the quintessence of apathy. "It's a funny thing. You could have used your Geass on him, but you chose not to."

"Using my Geass was unnecessary. I already have—"

"Q1. I know." She slides her hand down the plastic, and the sound is worse than nails on a chalkboard. "Still, he would have been an invaluable resource."

Lelouch swallows. Audibly. "Zero does not force loyalties. Those who join the Black Knights do so of their own free will."

"Spare me the speech" is what he anticipates her to say. However, she is a capricious witch, fickle, unpredictable, so she turns around and asks, "So, you don't feel betrayed?"

The mask looks darker in her wan hands. "The Suzaku I know now is different from the one I knew seven years ago."

"That was a non sequitur, you know." C.C. smiles, and it is bare, bland. Her eyes, conversely, are frighteningly astute.

"No. I don't."

She pads toward him on bare feet, cradling the mask in her hands like she would her precious Cheese-kun. Her smile never fades; she halts when they are mere inches apart.

"You don't feel even slightly disappointed?"

He feels a warm rush of breath, as she says those words. A strand of her hair swings like a wind chime before falling back into place.

Then, it is still.

C.C. watches him with an indifferent face and interested eyes, and Lelouch opens his mouth to tell another lie to a person built upon untruths when—

"Hey, Lelouch, are you home?"

* * *

><p>When Suzaku enters the room, she is already in the closet. They both know from experience that underneath the bed is the worst possible idea.<p>

Suzaku is smiling his dopey schoolboy smile, textbooks tucked under his arm, and that's when Lelouch remembers.

"Did I say I'd tutor you?"

Suzaku's eyes widen. "I'm sorry," he says, "if it's inconvenient for you, I can just—"

"No." Lelouch's voice is firm, leaving no room for argument. "I've missed you."

Before Suzaku can react, Lelouch has grabbed him by the chin and is kissing him, hard and sloppy. He can feel his saliva against Suzaku's lips, and, for a moment, he fears the other boy's mouth will stay shut, but then it is open and pliant, and Lelouch wastes no time sticking his tongue inside, sliding against enamel, brushing against slick gums.

It is inelegant, a symphony of obscene smacking and sucking noises that rings in Lelouch's ears. But Suzaku's mouth is wet and warm, so it does not matter.

(It does not matter that it was a lie when he smiled, eyes bright, and said, "We can do anything together.")

It is then that Lelouch notices that Suzaku's arms are rigid at his sides, and, when he looks down, he realizes the fool has not dropped the damn textbooks, so he rips them from his arm and drops each one to the ground with a deafening _smack_. Adieu _Britannian History: A Survey_, bon voyage _Calculus I_, and sayonara _Compact Reader_.

Lelouch fumbles with Suzaku's shirt for a few moments before the other boy simply pulls it over his head, and now Lelouch can see tan skin stretched across lean muscles, and he licks his lips, relishing it…

…until Suzaku pulls back.

"What was that?" he asks, voice husky and eyes half-lidded.

What indeed. Lelouch also heard the creak of a door opening, and his first instinct was to panic, but now he realizes that all Suzaku needs is a…_distraction._

"Nothing," Lelouch gasps, kissing down Suzaku's chest, running his fingers through his hair, rubbing up against him. "You're imagining things."

While that would not have been a satisfactory answer for most people, it is good enough for Suzaku, and his eyes slip shut. As Lelouch kisses him, he feels an initial flurry of resentment toward that infernal witch because he knows she's watching, and she knows he knows, and she knows he knows she knows that Suzaku could _see_ her at any moment…

But when Suzaku grinds against his erection, these thoughts shatter and scatter, and Lelouch is reduced to a moaning _(ah!)_, groaning _(nng)_ mess.

And that's another thing: she's watching _this_.

She's not watching him tutoring Suzaku or defeating him at chess. She's not watching as Suzaku inquires about some fabricated girlfriend because he found a long strand of green hair in Lelouch's room. She's not watching as they sidestep their feelings. No, she's watching Suzaku moving against him, calling out his name, face flushed, eyes closed in pleasure.

And if Suzaku simply opens his eyes and really _looks_, he will see the strange green-haired girl from Shinjuku, dressed in one of Lelouch's button-down shirts and cradling the Zero mask. Yes, Lelouch thinks, Suzaku is a bit of a dolt, but it would be impossible to explain away _that_. Everything would be ruined. Just like that, everything would go down the drain.

Lelouch's cock twitches at the thought, and he begins to unbuckle Suzaku's pants, but Suzaku pushes him down on the bed and licks at his clothed erection. Lelouch can feel the moisture seeping through the fabric, and he fists the sheets, arches his back. Suzaku takes in more, and Lelouch can see his arm moving behind the bed. He's touching himself, isn't he? Lelouch gasps just as Suzaku whimpers around his cock.

But even through this haze of pleasure, Lelouch never forgets that the witch is watching, and he moans louder because of her. His cock hardens more because of her. He wishes he could see her face. Has that mask of impassivity broken?

When Suzaku removes his mouth, Lelouch whimpers from the loss of contact, but then he starts to pull down his pants.

"Sit up," Suzaku says.

Lelouch sits up, and Suzaku pulls down his pants and underwear in a single movement, so they pool around his ankles. His erection is bobbing between his thighs, already leaking, and Lelouch knows that C.C. is getting a good profile view.

…Particularly when Suzaku licks along the shaft, suckles on the head, and then swallows him down.

"_Ah!"_

All Lelouch can wonder is if she's enjoying the show

* * *

><p>C.C., for her part, is thoroughly unimpressed.<p>

A friend from the past. That is what Lelouch had called him. C.C. had to watch as Lelouch gave his so-called childhood friend a tongue bath. Then, she had to watch as he and his friend grinded against each other like the horny teenage boys they were. After that, she had to watch as his friend pulled down Lelouch's girlish underwear after getting his spit all over his pants. And now she is watching as his friend goes down on him. While stuck in a closet.

Lelouch has a wardrobe that would put most girls to shame, and she had to push past a plethora of tight pants and pastel-colored shirts in order to see anything. She wouldn't have bothered, but the moaning noises Lelouch was making piqued her interest. Somewhat.

At any rate, the first thought she had when she saw Lelouch and that other boy swapping spit was that Lelouch certainly had an interesting definition of the word 'friend.'

C.C. sighs and stretches, curling her toes, lifting the Zero mask over her head. She has to wonder if this is some childish show of superiority on Lelouch's part, and the other boy—Suzaku, right?—is merely being used as a medium.

Or maybe she's wrong.

Maybe the fact that she is there does not affect anything at all. Or maybe the fact that she is there _is_ having an unforeseen effect.

C.C. shakes her head of these thoughts. She has never been one for conjectures.

For now, she simply watches as Suzaku bobs his head, his nose buried in Lelouch's pubic hair. She observes the way his jaw works, and Lelouch fists the sheets, and she wonders idly if this is a skill he learned in the army or if Lelouch taught him well without her knowledge.

Suddenly, Lelouch cries out, and, for a split second, their eyes meet. He is staring straight at her, violet eyes sharp and knowing, and C.C. holds his gaze.

Then, his eyelashes flutter, and he releases down the other boy's throat, crying out the other boy's name, and presumably thinking only of the other boy—not of her. No, _certainly_ not of her.

C.C. smirks, shakes her head, and slinks back into the shadows.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>Huh. I think my writing was more whimsical than usual in this.

Anyway, thanks for reading! =)


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